Dewey

I have long suspected that we have ghosts in our house. The original structure was built in 1890 so it has a lot of history. One night during the time we were giving it a complete renovation, I was upstairs pulling ship lap boards off the walls and tossing them through a hole to a pile outside. It was 10:00 pm and there was no light except my one bulb shop light, although I was there by myself I could hear children’s voices and I stopped several times to shine the light around the empty house to see if I could find the source. Later one of my young step-sons told me he was afraid of the lamp beside his bed because a face would appear in the lampshade.

But that was thirty years ago and except for the occasional door opening and the irritating knocking sound in the attic, I had almost completely forgotten about the house being haunted until we got our new phone book this year. On a lark, I looked up my name to see if they had me under Marty, Paul, or if I was in the book at all. Imagine my surprise to find Cheryl A, and Dewey, and Marty Mitchell.

Dewey? Who the heck is Dewey?

And then it dawned on me, that knuckle head ghost is using my phone.

Listen, I don’t mind if you live in my house but get your own number!

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